


Christmas Decorations

by Lawsonia_Inermis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2751875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lawsonia_Inermis/pseuds/Lawsonia_Inermis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry went ahead with decorating his and Draco's flat for Christmas. Needless to say, Draco was not happy when he returned to a horrendously red and green home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Decorations

**Author's Note:**

> short oneshot I scribbled out at the library today. hope you enjoy it! merry christmas! there’s more holiday cheer to come.

“What the hell is that,” Draco’s voice cut in, more a statement than a question. Harry felt his mouth twist into a grin at the corners, and gave himself a short moment to school his expression before turning around to face his boyfriend.

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, perhaps a little bit tauntingly. His expression reformed into one of glee at the look of abject horror on his lover’s face.

“What,” Draco repeated, this time emphasizing each word individually, “is _that_?” His voice raised in pitch now, and the words came at a faster speed than his usual, “What is any of that? What is it doing in our flat?”

“Oh, you mean this?” Harry asked, lifting the lines of red and green tinsel he’d been unpacking before his boyfriend had stomped in to interrupt. “Christmas decorations.”

Draco’s look of horror morphed quickly into an annoyed scowl. “I understand that,” he snapped, insulted. “What I want to know is what the hell do you think you’re doing with them!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew the effect was ruined with the obvious look of delight on his face, but he tried for derisive anyways. “Decorating for Christmas?”

“Harry,” Draco exclaimed, unusually passionate, “this is horrendous! All the-- the red and green!” He said the words ‘red’ and ‘green’ the same way his father said ‘mudblood’.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed. “Those are Christmas colours?”

“They’re horrendous colours. Red and green do not mix, Harry - pick one or the other!” his lover demanded.

Harry widened his eyes and bat his lashes in an overtly falsified display of innocence. “Don’t we go together, love?”

Draco looked about ready to slap him, so Harry tucked away the rest of his rehearsed comebacks and laughed. “Come on, it’s Christmas!” he protested. “We need to decorate.”

Draco scowled at him, and then at the decorations he’d already strung around the room. The mouldings of the wall, top and bottom, were strung with braids of tinsel and Christmas lights. Each table had miniatures of santa, or his reindeer, or his sleigh and bag of gifts. There were wreaths and ornaments hung on the wall. Worst of all, or so he was sure Draco would think, there was a giant and vaguely disturbing stuffed santa riding a reindeer sitting on their clean white couch.

There were, of course, Christmas trees as well. Harry had taken great care in arranging the tackiest ornaments he could get his hands on in the most haphazard manage of which he was capable of on all three of the enormous trees he’d managed to get his hands on.

“This,” Draco started, waving his hands around the room, “is not decorating! This is mutilating our home!”

Harry grinned and leaned back into the couch. He sat on their fluffy white rug, surrounded by boxes and boxes of decorations he’d taken great care to collect over the years. After the his dismal at best holiday experiences with the Dursleys, followed by the bright and exciting Christmas’ at Hogwarts and the Burrow, Harry found himself unable to find a middle ground. Every year since Hogwarts, Harry’s home(s, really, as he’d moved around quite a bit, to the surprise of his friends at the time) had done a wonderful job of imitating the comfortable, cozy atmosphere that had been ever present in the Great Hall in December.

Although Harry and Draco had been together for three years, they’d taken great time moving in together. Draco had, of course, come to Weasley Christmas the last couple of years as Harry’s boyfriend, and Harry had braved the manor’s festivities for the sake of his lover, but they’d never spent an entire Christmas together, living in the same flat like this.

Harry had been extremely excited to make the biggest mess of it he possibly could. There was something sweetly endearing about the way Draco’s arms would flail and his face would flush when he was angry.

“That’s going a bit far,” Harry protested, putting on the best sad puppy face he could manage. He took great pleasure in his boyfriend’s wince, but his lover was clearly not giving in on this.

“The least you could do is change the colours,” Draco protested.

“Change the colours?” Harry echoed, gasping as if affronted. “But red and green are the Christmas colours!”

“No,” Draco protested. “Red, white and gold work perfectly fine! And they don't look…” Draco trailed off, waving frantically around the room, “... like-- like this!”

Harry frowned exaggeratedly. “I worked all day on this, Draco,” he parried. “Are you telling me you don’t appreciate it?”

Draco gave him a thoroughly annoyed look. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he snapped. “It’s not working, Harry!”

Harry laughed out loud. “Are you sure?”

Draco let a noisy breath out through his nose, almost a sigh of concession, and made his way across the floor. He’d shed his healer robes in his office, Harry was sure, and had returned in his well fitted denims and a white and gold jumper. His feet were wrapped in black socks, and they muffled the sound of him padding on the hardwood. Once he’d manouvered his way around the boxes and boxes of decorations, he settled himself into sitting cross legged on their rug.

“You spent all day on this?” he asked, leaning back so that his weight rested on one of his hands. He reached into his pocket with the other and returned with his wand. He gave Harry a long look, as if seeking approval, and when Harry made no protests, he waved it in a gentle twirl, once, twice, thrice. The gaudy reds and greens shifted to lovelier reds of candy apple and pale but beautiful shades of white and gold.

Harry nodded, watching as the decorations changed to his lover’s preferred colour scheme. “Mmm,” he hummed in confirmation. Draco waved his wand once more, and gentle gold glitter began to shift down from the ceiling. Harry chuckled.

“You used muggle lights,” Draco protested.

Harry snorted. “I have fairy lights, too. I just haven’t put them up yet,” he explained.

Draco nodded, though minutely, in approval. “Why do we need so many trees?”

“Hogwarts had more trees,” Harry pointed out.

“Hogwarts is huge,” Draco protested.

“So is our flat!” Harry exclaimed. “You’re the one who insisted we expand it with all that Wizard space!”

Draco sniffed, his nose scrunching with the action. “I’m not going to live in a hovel, Harry,” he protested.

“This is a luxury condominium building,” Harry protested. “It’s hardly a hovel.”

“It was small!”

“Not everyplace is the size of Malfoy Manor, Draco.”

Harry wasn’t completely sure he’d heard what Draco mumbled, but it surely sounded something along the lines of ‘they should be’. He found himself reaching out for his cranky boyfriend and dragging him sideways into his arms. Draco let out an indignant squawk at the action, but settled down pretty quickly.

Their living room looked stunning with the classy Christmas decorations matching the neutral and natural color scheme of their flat.

“The colours match surprisingly well,” Draco said, voicing Harry’s thoughts. “I like them with the refurbished wood.”

Harry felt himself rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. “Good thing we put it in every room.”

Draco sniffed disdainfully from where he was sprawled, half-on and half-off Harry’s lap. “It’s called continuity, Harry. Maybe you should look it up sometimes. I’m sure it could do your wardrobe some good.”

Harry pinched Draco’s sides, hard. He let out another undignified shriek. “Stop that!” he hissed, trying to direct his bony elbow into Harry’s torso.

Harry, however, having expected the reaction, avoided the assault well. “My wardrobe has continuity,” he protested.

“Yeah,” Draco huffed, “it’s continuously baggy and unflattering.”

Harry tried to pinch him again, but Draco was prepared this time. His own slim, pale hands shot out in an attempt to stop Harry’s broader ones from getting around his slim waist, and Harry conceded the win to his lover pretty quickly.

“Oh, shut up. I wear the clothes you buy me when we go to your stupid parties,” he pointed out.

Draco nodded gravely. “I’m afraid we wouldn’t go to them at all if you insisted on dressing yourself.”

Harry caught him with his pinch this time. He took great pleasure in Draco’s distressed cry.

“Oh, shut up. Hermione buys me nice clothes, too, and I wear them!”

Draco couldn’t say anything to that without contradicting his earlier accusations, so he kept silent, instead relaxing into the embrace of his lover. Harry wrapped his arms around the slimmer man’s torso and dragged him further into his lap.

“We’re having a Christmas party, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Draco asked, incredulous. “I haven’t heard about this?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “You would’ve protested.”

Draco began to squirm in his lap, but Harry held fast. “What the hell? Of course I would have! We’re already going to Weasleys’ for Christmas!”

“Yup,” Harry replied, “but your friends or family won’t be there.”

Draco fell silent. “You’re inviting my side, as well?”

Harry pressed his face into the curve of Draco’s neck, inhaling deeply. He didn’t quite like the term side, but couldn’t bring himself to protest. He nodded shortly, knowing Draco would feel his reply against his skin.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Draco said. “It’ll end in disaster, Harry.”

“I disagree,” Harry protested. “The Weasleys and all of my friends have promised to be on their best behaviour!”

“You’ve already invited them?” Draco hissed.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed in confirmation. “You would’ve protested,” he added, as if it justified his actions.

“Of course I would have!” Draco snapped. “I don’t want our flat to be decimated by a blood feud!”

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing Draco wouldn’t see it from where his face was still buried in his shoulder. “Don’t be so dramatic,” Harry said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. We go to both sides every year and nothing terrible has happened.”

“Nothing terrible has happened,” Draco started, his voice rising in octave the further along his sentence went, “because there has been no time Malfoys and Weasleys have been in direct contact!”

“You come to the Weasleys’ with me every year,” Harry protested.

“That’s different,” Draco sighed. “I’m not my father, Harry. This will be a disaster, I swear.”

“They’ll try,” Harry objected, “and they’ll behave. I know the Weasleys will for me, and I know your parents will for you.”

“Blaise will make a mess of something,” Draco said, his voice sounding more defeated than protesting now. Harry was pleased to note that this was a concession, though he was sure Draco would never outright say his brilliant idea was a go. “I’m sure he will. Pansy will definitely flirt with your gay Weasley.”

Harry snorted. “I’m sure Charlie can handle it.”

“My father and Mr. Weasley will be in my flat, at the same time,” Draco moaned. “The horror. We’re putting away all of our photo frames, Harry, I do not want anything important breaking in their dispute.”

“It’ll be fine!” Harry reiterated.

“We’ll need lots of food,” Draco added. “Kreacher will be coming back from Hogwarts during the holidays, I hope?”

“Of course,” Harry replied. “I can’t do it all by myself.”

Draco nodded. “I’m picking the alcohol. You have absolutely no taste, Harry.”

“Of course,” Harry repeated. “Anything you say.”

“Our room is off limits,” Draco added. “I do not want any children in there. Hugo would destroy the place. Not to mention those Scamander twins! They’re deviants, I know it. They seem innocent, but they are definitely hiding some mischief in them. They’ll probably be slytherins.”

“Aren’t both their parents Ravenclaws?”

Draco’s nose scrunched. “Are you sure? I thought Scamander was a hufflepuff.”

Harry hummed as he thought the words over. “Not sure,” he said, finally. “I suppose we could ask.”

“It wouldn’t matter, anyways,” Draco said. “I am positive they will be in Slytherin.”

Harry sighed and nuzzled his lover’s neck a little harder. “Alright, if you say so.”

Draco shifted in his lap. “Let’s get off the floor,” he decided, wiggling around to free himself. Harry made sure to hold extra tight, and was shaking with laughter by the time Draco finally gave in and settled back into his arms, huffing a bit with the strength with which he’d exerted himself.

“Harry,” he practically whined.

“Yes, love?” Harry purred, dragging Draco further into his arms so that his bottom was pressed against Harry’s crotch. He rocked a bit in his seat, and Draco let out a hiss when it caused his cock to harden and poke his lover’s bottom.

“No, we haven’t even had dinner!” Draco protested, resuming his struggle for freedom.

His slim body, of course, had nothing against Harry’s own auror trained one, thick with muscles in ways it hadn’t been before. The second time Draco gave up, Harry leaned in to drop a kiss to his cheek.

“Let’s get take out,” he declared. “I want pizza.”

Draco scowled, tilting his head so that they were nose to nose. “Something so greasy this late? Let’s get thai or indian.”

Harry sighed, as if he were making a great sacrifice. “Alright,” he conceded. “You can help me finish up the decorating once we eat,” he added. He let his lover go, then, and Draco wasted no time in removing himself from his lovers lap.

“There’s more than enough!” Draco protested. “Look at all this tinsel!” he demanded, waving his hand around the room. He was making his way across the floor to the table in the middle, where Harry had left the muggle cellphone Hermione had pushed onto him the year before. He didn’t move from his seat, watching as Draco fiddled and struggled with the device, likely trying to find the name of his favorite takeout place in Harry’s contacts. He let out a little whoop of success when he’d managed to get the call through.

“The usual?” he asked, gesturing to the phone as if Harry wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

“Of course,” Harry responded, struggling to his feet. He could feel his muscles protesting at finally moving after having been still so long.

Draco shot him a wicked smile and shuffled his way out of the room. “Hello? I’d like an order off…”

Draco’s voice faded as he made his way to the kitchen, and Harry felt his mouth twisting, once more, into a grin. He looked around at the Christmas decorations and grinned.

Christmas was going to be great this year.


End file.
